[ S E R A P H I N E ] The house feels more like a fortress than a home tonight. I'm getting used to seeing Dominico's bodyguards every single day, but the presence of another armed stranger in the house is only making me more uncomfortable. Not safer. The tension around us is making Dominico fidget in his seat, too. Fico and Paolo awkwardly chat with Mrs. Tomassini's bodyguard in the living room while steady rainfall taps a gentle, calming rhythm against the windows. Sitting beside Dominico in a thin blue sweater, Rosalind Tomassini puts on a weak smile and stares at her cup of coffee. “You two looked so gorgeous in the photos and videos. The chapel looked beautiful, as well.” Her slightly veiny hand slowly tilts her mug on the gilded saucer. “Alfeo's cousin helped us with the paperwork,” Dominico says flatly. “I wish you just told us. Called me the night before at least. You know I really wanted to be there.” Mrs. Tomassini flings him a disappointed look and combs back her
[ S E R A P H I N E ] This doesn't feel real. Or spontaneous. Nope. Not at all. One of my nightmares is becoming my reality. I'm being stalked. I'm being targeted. Why? Bad blood? Is this guy here to show off how better his life has gotten since we broke up? How the heck did he find me? Did he pay Alina? Maybe he convinced another one of my former co-workers. Something tells me his reason -- or reasons? -- for being here is not something I can freely discuss with my "husband". “Met your friend the other day.” Pierre's unwavering gaze travels up and down, assessing my appearance like it's necessary. “She didn't say?” “She told me.” I stare back at him and do my best to keep my voice steady. I wanna look and sound unbothered. Emotionless. I don't want him to think I've been waiting so long for this moment. Three and a half years, to be more specific. “Been trying to find you. Tsk. You don't make it easy, love.” “Why?” Oh dear. If his mother wasn't British, his pet
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “You sure you're okay?” “I'm fine.” I nod and give Paolo a quick smile, keeping up a calm voice. “I'm just gonna take a shower. Rest for a bit.” “No one followed us,” he mutters with a straight face. With his handgun tucked under his leather belt, he grips his phone and stands on the black doormat. The concern in his eyes is directed at me and me only. “I just called the guards at the entrance. They double-checked the logs, and the CCTV.” Crap. Now I'm causing a fuss in this neighborhood, though I don't even own an inch of this property. “Okay. Thanks.” “Don't worry about it. I'll be outside in case your friend shows up.” “He's not my friend anymore,” is what I should say. Instead, I just give Paolo another weak nod while my fingers curl around the cold doorknob. I don't think Pierre knows where I live. Not yet, anyway. Then again I can't know for sure unless I ask him myself. I still have his number. I just don't wanna call him. If I encourage him
[ D O M I N I C O ] “What? No. I-I didn't mean it like that.” Stuttering. Minimal eye contact. Hands fidgeting. The topic's making her uncomfortable. Or me being unusually candid is the reason she's feeling uneasy. “But you did think I was making it all up. For a second at least.” “I-I just didn't expect it.” Sephie blushes, then glances down at my crotch area, her voice even fainter than usual. “What you said about your, um...” “Performance issues,” I say before she could think about changing the subject. I grin when she covers her mouth. I sit closer to her, trying not to crack a smile, but I already feel my poker face slipping off. Not because I find her reaction hilarious. I'm on the verge of cracking up because sex talk still makes both of us uncomfortable. Like we're two clueless, horny teenagers dancing around the issue just to not seem desperate. Like she forgot that we already have an actual priest's blessing and permission to live as husband and wife. Or I'm ju
[ S E R A P H I N E ]I'm a liar. Maybe the biggest hypocrite he's met. But I have to lie. If lying to Dominico's face is the only way to keep Pierre out of trouble, so be it.We may be estranged, but I can't put him in danger. I don't need another reason to feel shitty. Another reason to hate myself. If Pierre gets seriously hurt because of my involvement with Dominico and his family, I'll be carrying the burden of guilt for the rest of my life.“What did he say exactly?” Dominico eyes me with a scowl, his tone making me even more nervous. “What does he know about me?”Tension hangs thick in the air. I sit cross-legged on his covers, my fingers distractedly tracing patterns on the smooth fabric. “I don't know. I kept telling him to get lost. I was scared Paolo or Fico would see him and...”“It's just their job.”Yeah. They know a threat when they see one, but I still don't think Pierre would hurt me like that. “Why didn't you just tell me?” Dominico turns away from me and stan
• ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHT © 2024 by M.Z.Mauve • DISCLAIMER • Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented. This story contains mature themes, profanity, violence, and sexual content not intended for young readers. All photos included in this book belong to the copyright owners. Full credits to the owners. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this story or plagiarism of any kind is prohibited by the law. | MAIN CHARACTERS | FL ••• Seraphine "Sephie" Lee Azur- 24 years old - receptionist at one of the Tomassinis' country clubsML ••• Dominico "Doni" / "Dom" Deschanel Tomassini- 29 years old - CFO of his father's new firm - founder and former CEO of a bankrupt fintech company Chapter 1 •••••••••••••••••••• [ S E R A P H I N E ] I'm a killer.I killed someone last night.Sweet old Sephie is dead. I murdered innocent little Sephie in more ways than I imagined. She died the moment I accepted the money. Gratefully. The biggest payment I'v
[ S E R A P H I N E ] "You good?" Dominico squints at me, then tosses back the whiskey in his second glass."Sì, Signore." [Yes, Sir.] The guy stares at me with furrowed brows. "Don't call me that." My heart drops at his emotionless voice. My shoulders tense up, and my cheeks feel like they're burning. "Pardon?""I'm not your boss." My gut clenches. Embarrassment heats up my throat and the back of my eyes. "Right." I try not to scowl as I put away the cleaning supplies. What the heck is this asshole's problem? Is it me? Because I didn't even try to look like I belong here? Is he disgusted by this outfit? Because I look too tacky for his refined tastes? According to some pictures online, he dated a 20-something Spanish model slash actress. Therefore he probably likes women with immaculate fashion taste.The jerk finally gets up from the stool and swigs the rest of his drink. As I keep my mouth shut, Dominico plops the empty glass back on the bar. "And I'm pretty sure you know my
[ S E R A P H I N E ]About 15 minutes later, I'm inside the cabin where Dominico told me I should "hide" if I want to avoid his father for the next couple of hours. I'm double-checking Dominico's injuries, making sure his nose isn't broken. I don't really need to ask whether it was his father's doing. My gut tells me I already know the answer. It's the WHY that's still bugging my sleep-deprived brain. Only, it's obvious what happened between him and his father is the last thing my companion wants to chat about.So far I'm 90% sure Dominico will live and won't need emergency rhinoplasty. The bleeding already stopped, and his septum doesn't look deviated, but the bridge of his nose does look swollen. My dad has taught me more than basic first aid over the years, and Dominico seems to believe me.We're still alone, still in the same clothes, exchanging awkward glances while I sit next to him on the left side of the bed. It's not too small for two people, but rather uncomfortable if he